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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27562741">Ad Vitam Eternam</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cao_the_dreamer/pseuds/Cao_the_dreamer'>Cao_the_dreamer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Transformers - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Family, Family Secrets, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Interspecies Relationship(s), Platonic Cuddling, Stargazing, Young Bruce Wayne, batman got a ride but cooler, canon characters death, just give bruce a hug, teebs will do so gladly, the crossover nobody asked for YOU'RE WELCOME, you know where this is going</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:40:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,957</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27562741</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cao_the_dreamer/pseuds/Cao_the_dreamer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the Batmobile was more than meets the eye?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Batman &amp; Trailbreaker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ad Vitam Eternam</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Good morning/evening/day, God has given me a keyboard and I'm going to make this everyone else's problem :3</p><p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bruce had never been in the manor’s cellar.</p><p>His father told him it was full of wine bottles and cobwebs, that it was dark, cold and humid, thus not a very fun place. His mother whispered, with her eyes shining with the light of buried mysteries, that the cellar was filled with the past of the family, their secrets hidden within these walls.</p><p>Bruce wasn’t an idiot. He knew she wasn’t talking about ghosts. It was something more important, more precious. However, he didn’t dare to ask. If his parents hadn’t revealed anything to him, that had to be for a good reason, right?</p><p>He was dwelling on those thoughts as he read, lying on the soft carpet of the living room. Truth to be told, he wasn’t reading anymore. He had discarded his book and now stared at the ceiling, sprawled like a starfish. Thomas Wayne was sewing on a canvas and Martha Wayne was reading the company’s mails. The atmosphere was convivial, and so peaceful Bruce could almost have fallen asleep.</p><p>“What’s in the cellar?” he suddenly asked out of the blue.</p><p>His parents raised their head, with an expression so serious it almost scared Bruce. Thomas and Martha shared a heavy look — then they sighed, the kind of sigh you make when you know you can no longer delay the inevitable.</p><p>So Martha put down the mail and opened her arms, inviting her son to sit. He shyly settled on her lap, but immediately relaxed when she fondly petted the back of his neck, holding him gently.</p><p>“You have the right to be curious. You have the right to know,” she began. “It is part of man to ask questions.”</p><p>“But, Bruce,” his father went on, “some secrets must stay hidden. Do you know why?”</p><p>“Hum… because revealing them can be dangerous?” the boy guessed.</p><p>“Exactly,” Thomas confirmed with a smile. “There are many secrets hidden in the cellar. You are young and you have got questions. That is a good thing. Me too, when I was your age, there were so many truths I wanted to know.”</p><p>“We can show you what our family hid from generation to generation,” Martha added. “But you must promise us, Bruce, you must promise you will never, <em> ever </em>divulge what you will see — or we will all be in danger. If you’re not ready, you can just say no and we will forget all of this. It is your choice. </p><p>The ten-year-old should have suffocated and his shoulders should have bent under the weight of the responsibility such choice implicated. Yet there was nothing but a child’s request in his eyes.</p><p>“I want to know.”</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Soon Bruce discovered that it wasn’t the cellar itself that mattered, but what it concealed. Behind a row of fake bottles there was a thick door, whose hinges barely creaked when it opened to reveal stairs that went deeper into the depths of the mansion. </p><p>Martha began the descent first, followed by her husband who held their son by the hand. For a while only their footsteps echoed around them, their path illuminated by the flashlight Martha held. Then a stream could be heard and at last, the stairs ended.</p><p>Bruce gasped when they arrived in a giant cave — the vaulted ceiling was so high it disappeared into the darkness. A spring trickled between the rocks and ran lazily through the cracks. A few lights struggled to pierce the shadows clinging to this cathedral of limestone and stoneware.</p><p>And in the middle of all of this stood his parents’ favourite car, which almost blended in the scenery with its black paint.</p><p>Bruce frowned. What was the car doing here? He knew it had been passed on by his grandparents and that it was precious, but he couldn’t get how it ended up here.</p><p>He vaguely motioned toward the cave.</p><p>“Is it the secret?”</p><p>“Not it,” his father corrected, “he’s a he.”</p><p>An unknown, husky and warm voice resonated suddenly, startling him.</p><p>“Hi there little guy!”</p><p>Bruce clung to his father’s arm and frantically looked around. Who just talked?</p><p>“Have no fear,” his mother said with an appeasing voice, “he is family.”</p><p>Then she turned toward the car.</p><p>“You may show yourself.”</p><p>To the child’s great surprise, the vehicle bent, folded, twisted and <em> changed form </em> until a towering figure sat on the ground — a gigantic man made of metal, looking at the boy with soft orange eyes. </p><p>He made no move, afraid he might scare the little one. After all, it already happened in the past. However, the child didn’t scream, nor did he try to run away when the father let go of his hand. He simply stood there, observing the metal giant with clever and enthralled eyes.</p><p>He took a step forward. Then another, and another, until he was standing in front of him.</p><p>“Hello,” he greeted, shyly and politely. </p><p>The giant grinned and extended a hand, palm open and inviting. The boy slightly hesitated before touching him. He was surprised by the warmth emanating from the metal. It was soft, pulsing as if there was blood underneath.</p><p>The giant curled his fingers around the tiny hand and shook it delicately, as if the boy was made of glass.</p><p>“I-I’m Bruce,” the child suddenly stammered, realising he had gone silent for a while.</p><p>“I know,” the giant nodded. “The youngest of the Waynes. Your parents talk a lot ‘bout you. You’re as cute as your mother.”</p><p>“Oh stop it, you flatterer,” Martha giggled playfully.</p><p>“Ain’t flattery if it’s true,” the giant retorted, smirking.</p><p>Then his eyes — not really eyes, more like a line of light — went back to Bruce. </p><p>“Nice to finally meet ya, Bruce.”</p><p>A large finger gently petted the back of Bruce’s hand. The boy immediately understood how strong, yet how gentle and caring this being was.</p><p>“I’m Trailbreaker.”</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Trailbreaker (or “Teebs”, like Thomas and Martha affectionately called him) had been at the Waynes’ service for more than a century. They had hidden him from the rest of the world that would have dismantled and vivisected him without hesitation. In return he had protected them from the turmoil of History. Reciprocal guardians, Trailbreaker was loyal to the family that took him in when he was lost and alone on an unknown planet.</p><p>He explained to Bruce that he was part of an autonomous robotic species from a far, far away planet, Cybertron. His world was breaking apart due to a war between Autobots and Decepticons, the former he used to be part of.</p><p>He didn’t like speaking of this part of his past.</p><p>Instead he would rather tell the dramatic adventures he lived through with the Earthlings, the wild rides across the continent, the authorities he fooled, the people he helped. His long story was summed up by the short one of this planet.</p><p>But Bruce was curious. Trailbreaker was the coolest person he ever met and he would have liked to know more about this giant that had slowly become his friend.</p><p>“If you come from space,” Bruce asked one evening, “how did you arrive here? Do you think there could be other people like you, somewhere else?”</p><p>They were sitting in the huge garden for some stargazing. The sky was clear, no cloud, no moon, hence why Bruce had brought his telescope to study the constellations.  Trailbreaker was lying flat on his back, his arms folded behind his head, acting as a heater for the boy sitting on his belly. </p><p>In this position, Bruce could easily feel his friend freeze. Then Trailbreaker let out a long, deep sigh, like a train wheezing when it entered a station, exhausted after a long travel.</p><p>They always asked. They always wanted to know. That wasn’t a problem, they were allowed to know. History repeated itself, though it didn’t bother him. That was just… human.</p><p>“Maybe,” he nodded.</p><p>“Where are they then? Why aren't there more of you?”</p><p>“I dunno. I'm alone, kiddo. It all happened because I was at the wrong place, wrong time. When I crashed here, I had no way of contacting my comrades. Still don't have any with the 'Cons lurking around next corner. And my brothers-in-arms... They don't know I'm here. They probably think I'm dead. Besides, I'm just one soldier. Why’d they care ‘bout little old me? They won't send a rescue party just for one stupid dude who got separated from his crew ‘cause he was drunk. There's a war going on out there; they don't have time for a laggard. So now I'm stuck here. And y’know what? For all it's worth, I'm glad I was found by your family.”</p><p>He punctuated his words by ruffling the boy’s hair. Bruce barely protested. He felt saddened by this confession. So he got to his feet and climbed up the giant’s body before snuggling in the crook of his neck.</p><p>“Then I’ll make sure you’ll never be alone. I promise.”</p><p>A child’s promise was always genuine and touching, even though it wasn’t made to last. Trailbreaker smiled and covered Bruce with his hand to protect him from the cold of the night.</p><hr/><p> </p><p>When Trailbreaker remembered this evening, he felt like it happened in another life. It was as though fate, destiny or a sadistic god had covered these moments with a veil to render them blurred and distant. The Bruce of these memories died the day his parents bled to death on the pavement. The child died and only left an empty shell consumed by grief.</p><p>Even after all these years, Trailbreaker still felt like it was his fault. Guilt never left him. Because he failed his mission, he failed to protect his family. The names engraved on the family vault were forever burned in his processor.</p><p>He wished he could drown his sorrow in the engex, but it was nowhere to be found on this planet. He would rather be stone drunk, than be consumed by regrets to the point he screamed in pain during his insomnias. Cybertronians weren’t able to cry.</p><p>Bruce had long dried his tears. The child became a man and the man became a shadow. A shadow prowling in the night, tearing apart the rotten fruits of Gotham and spreading fear in everyone’s mind, be they good or evil.</p><p>Trailbreaker had followed him in his crusade without protesting. It was like any other war and the soldier in him found himself in familiar territory. At least, on the frontlines, he could more easily watch over the last Wayne.</p><p>A titan caring for a bat. He had accepted this role without protesting.</p><p>The name the public gave him… Not really.</p><p>The “Batmobile”. <em> Bah. </em></p><p>When he complained about it, it drew a small smile out of his protege. At least it proved there was something left of the old Bruce, the one who looked at him with stars in his eyes and enthusiasm in his heart.</p><p>Trailbreaker was ruminating on these thoughts when footsteps pulled him back to reality. Someone lightly knocked on his door.</p><p>When he saw the bags under Bruce’s eyes and the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, Trailbreaker didn’t ask for an explanation. He arranged his backseat for his protege to lie down more comfortably, then he let him come in.</p><p>He knew his seats weren’t worth the many comfy beds in the manor, but Bruce didn’t care. Sometimes the man felt overwhelmed by the nightmares, the grief and the pain. Only Trailbreaker’s familiar warmth could stop this infernal circle, at least for a time. He slept more peacefully when he knew a family member was by his side.</p><p>This ritual, this unspoken agreement slightly lessened their loneliness. </p><p>“G’night, Bruce,” Trailbreaker whispered.</p><p>“Goodnight, Teebs.”</p><p>They slept out like rocks.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!!</p><p>I would love to hear your thoughts about this :D</p><p>Have a nice day!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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